Razorblades: A Story Of Love, Betrayal and Anger
by Lila Caffee
Summary: One-Shot, written at school. Erik, Christine and everyone else is in High School. Warning: References to Cutting and Minor Adult Themes. Very intense and dark! It may be my best story so far. Please Read and Review!


Erik sat on the bench, watching the other students swim. He tore his eyes from the other kids long enough to notice Christine walking down the pool, the only other fully dressed person in the room. She had her pants rolled up, and wasn't wearing shoes. The warm pool air was making her damp clothes stick to her body. He sighed, looking at the goddess before him.

Suddenly, the gym coach blew the whistle and the other students got out of the chlorinated water, dripping wet. Erik watched as a bunch of guys shoved each other, and one smashed into Christine. He watched as Christine stumbled and smashed her head into the bar used to keep the flags up at swim meets. He watched as she fell into the pool.

Erik's legs didn't agree with his mind. He ran through the crowd and jumped into the pool, wearing his shirt, pants and… mask. The mask's adhesive wasn't waterproof. His mask hid the cruel excuse for a face that tormented him. It hid the reason he had no friends, was in foster care for most of his life, and the reason he was often alone, composing the notes that formed in his disfigured, yet ingenious head.

He held his breath under the water's surface, desperately searching for a glimpse of his angel. Then, he saw her, her skin a startling ivory, her usually bright curls casting a foreshadowing circle of death around her. He dived down to her and grabbed her around the waist, pulling up to the surface alongside him. He crashed through the surface, gasping for the salty pool air.

He swam toward the edge and pulled her onto the deck. He then pushed himself up. A crowd was gathering around the unconscious girl and the outcast who had saved her. He checked her breathing and slowly shook his head. She needed to breathe. He pressed on her chest. Nothing happened. The crowd began to whisper.

He blushed at the thought of his next move, in the back of his mind. He decided in a second that it was all he could do. He placed on of his hand behind her neck and propped it up. He took a breath and lowered his lips to hers. Once his lips connected with hers, he breathed sweet life into her.

After a few moments, Christine's eyes fluttered open. Erik broke the breath he was giving her. He stayed very close to her, only because no one knew she was awake except him. She turned her head and coughed, alerting the crowd to her recovery.

She turned back to the young man who was still only inches from her face. He saw the gratefulness in her eyes turn to fear. He thought at first that she was in shock, but then he saw her eyes flicker to the right side of his face. His face turned from relief to panic. He moved one hand up to his face. He felt not the cold, familiar mercy of porcelain, but the cruel, fleshy demon skin. The moment he touched his scarred visage, he let go of her and ran. He ran from the shock, from her fear. He ran to his sanctuary. A place where no one would care. He didn't even stop to procure his mask from the deep, light blue water, so forgiving to the eye, but oh, so cruel to the touch.

Christine sat frozen, unable to move. She wasn't sure of what. Of fear? Of embarrassment? Of shock? The school nurse finally arrived, and began to check her vitals. Even though she passed all the signs that she was physically okay, she wasn't sure about her emotional or mental state of affairs.

Meanwhile, within the crowd, stood the Daroga and Meg. They stayed a moment, after watching Erik run off, to make sure Christine was all right. Once Raoul offered to walk her to class, they knew she'd be fine. Raoul was an idiot pansy, but he wasn't irresponsible. Meg pulled on the Daroga's arm.

"What?" he asked quietly, eyeing the young blond curiously.

"Erik. Let's go console the self-hating hero." The Daroga nodded and found Gerard, another friend of theirs. They all sneaked away from the crowd, and headed off to Erik's sanctuary, one of the library's storage closets. Right before they left, Daroga picked up the mask, floating sadly in the betraying water.

The library felt pity for Erik, and he often helped them whenever he was needed, so they gave him a room to do his artwork and homework in. He often used it as an office, though. People would come and beg for his help. He usually asked for something in return, like the Godfather. It was about the size of a bedroom, with shelves lining the walls and a desk against one of the walls. The shelves were sparse, only a few of Erik's tools and books on them. He used one specifically for his statues, the ones he made out of clay.

The trio found the spare key in the librarian's desk, but it was of no use to them. The door was ajar, allowing anyone to come in and see the monster within. The cautiously stepped inside, knowing if Erik had left the door open, he didn't care anymore. He only left it open when he was too emotional to close it.

They found him, his head on his desk, arms folded around it so his face was invisible, and he looked nearly like a shadow. Gerard flicked on the desk light and sat on the desk. Daroga stood by Erik's side, as a right-hand man should. Meg stood quietly; ready to ask like the sisterly friend that she was.

"Erik? Erik, are you okay?" the Daroga asked, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. They had been friends for a long time, almost brothers, and he hated to see Erik in this state of mind. He often acted foolishly when he was angry, hurting people and trashing his room. He had never seen anyone so worked up over a girl, and he knew Erik had expected Christine to love him immediately, like the angel he thought she was.

"She hates me..." he sobbed into his arms.

"No, she doesn't!" Gerard put on of his hands on Erik's. Gerard was the newest to the group, but had still been there a few years. He was a self-proclaimed homosexual, and the entire school hated him for it. Except Erik. Erik said the world is unforgiving to some, and those few must find each other, in order to change it. Unfortunately, Gerard, in the beginning, had a huge crush on Erik, but since then it had become less outspoken. Sure, he still blushed whenever Erik would compliment him or drool a little bit when Erik was swimming shirtless in the Daroga's pool, but he saw that Erik was in love with Christine, and he loved Erik so much, he would let Erik do what he pleased, no matter how much it broke his heart.

"I'm a monster..." he sighed, the hatred for himself growing in his voice.

"No, you're not. Would a monster save a life?" Meg asked, stroking his hair and rubbing his back. She was nearly a sister to him, and the only girl friend he had. She often gave him advice and saw the bigger picture when he was trapped in his own little world. She loved him to death, as a sister should, and would always be there for him.

Erik's head rose, his fists clenched with the anger that boiled inside of his blood. "How dare I touch her! She is much to pure for my sinful thoughts, let alone the hand that do THE DEVIL'S WORK!" his voice grew louder and louder with every word, crescendo-ing like thunder at the midnight hour. His outburst made his three friends' flinch and cringe back to where they started. He stood and turned to them. "You see? EVEN YOU ALL ARE SCARED OF ME!" His voice changed from thunder to a leopard hunting its prey. His dangerously low and full of hate. "I've kissed an angel, now I should pay."

His long, slender arms and fingers reached for a small, metal, black box. He threw it down onto the desk and opened it. Inside were the many tools he used to make his sculptures. He pulled out a smaller, clear box, with scratches covering the inside. It contained five, brand-new razorblades.

He took one out and examined it. He them lowered it to a mere inch above his wrist. "Every ounce of pain I feel will be worth it, if I can forget the sinful feel of her lips against mine. A demon should never kiss an angel."

Gerard was the first to speak up. "Razorblades? Are you crazy?"

"Erik, you can't do this. You don't need to hurt yourself and let your life's work go to waste! Stop this!" Meg cried.

"Erik, you've finally lost it. Hand over the razorblade, and we can talk. This is very dangerous, and you'll regret it tomorrow." Daroga put up his hand to get it back, only for it to be slapped away, and the hand that did it to be put back in place, except only half an inch away from the manipulating, evil, steel death.

"I am not crazy! I need to do this! It's the only way to release the pain from my heart. To release the love from my heart..." he sounded ashamed and frightened now. He obviously thought this was the only way, no matter how much he hated it.

Christine burst in. She had obviously been listening on her way to the library, as the door was still open and their shouts echoed in the empty room. She saw what he was doing and realized her worst fear. She yelled, "STOP!"

Erik paused, and looked at her. He raised the blade from his skin, never taking his eyes off of the girl he was willing to die for. "Chr-Christine?"

"Oh, Erik! I'm sorry! You saved my life, and I was too focused on myself. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I drove you to madness! I should be the one suffering physical pain to match the pain I feel in my heart for making you cut yourself! She dropped to her knees and sobbed.

Erik placed the tempting steel back into the box. He dropped to her side and placed his hand on her back. "Oh Christine... My Christine... Don't cry for me. Each tear is as if that razor had cut my heart."

She embraced him and buried her face into his shoulder. He embraced her back, holding her close. He let a few tears roll down his scars, no longer caring that his mask was in Daroga's hand. "I'm sorry..."

Daroga grabbed Gerard's wrist and Meg's shoulder. He said, almost deftly, "Let's go before-"

His suggestion was interrupted by a sharp gasp from the trio. Erik and Christine were kissing in front of them, tears still wet on their faces. They watched in disbelief as the kiss became more passionate. Erik's hands moved to her waist, her fingers moving expertly through his hair.

A sound broke the stupor that enraptured the three friends. It was a pure sound, a sound only an angel could make. It was a deep, clear moan. It came again, only this time in harmony with another moan, this one higher and violin like.

The Daroga made a motion for Meg and Gerard to leave, as Erik would probably want his privacy.


End file.
